“God, finally!” Trace said as the wheels hit the tarmac.

Justin started shifting in his seat, looking around him for his things. He couldn’t say he’d be sorry to get off the plane either. “Shit, you seen my phone?”

“In your seat pocket.”

He wasn’t going to ask how Reese knew that when she’d barely looked anywhere except the window for the entire flight. When she hadn’t been asleep she’d been staring out at the sky. “Found it, thanks.”

All three of them had different reasons for being glad to be home. Trace drank a lot more than Reese the previous evening, so he was feeling rough; pressurised cabins were not brilliant places to be with a hangover. Reese was more than ready to end the protracted brain breaker of a trip. Facing your demons was never fun, particularly not when parcelled up with a funeral of all things. Justin felt sheepish and guilty about his conversation with her in the hut last night. She didn’t look like she’d had much sleep. She’d retreated back into her shell again and he was certain he’d blown it. Yet again his mouth had run away with him.

At least this time his mouth had spewed out some honesty instead of vitriol. He supposed that was still progress.

It was a nice sunny day, however, and at least there were no paparazzi this time. There had been more of them waiting when they departed and he was getting a little worried about that. They’d shown up at the funeral, they’d shown up at the airport. They seemed very interested in the fact that his former fiancée had been travelling with him. She was of course wearing her engagement ring, which nobody in their right mind could think he’d bought after comparing it to the previous rock, but that never stopped the gossip rags from talking. He was suspicious that a story was brewing. Coming home for a while had (among other things) been an attempt to get away from the gossip hounds.

Briefly he’d considered staying in Los Angeles, letting Trace and Reese get the plane back and allowing them to just get on with the upcoming wedding. There was no particular need for him to be here and after the previous evening he feared the temporary truce was about to be lifted. He had done what he set out to do. He had proved he could come back home and at least somewhat deal with seeing her. There had even been some improvement, difficult as it was to view it that way when he’d taken such a step back last night. They had talked without nastiness and been civil. The last discussion might have been torturous but it was conducted in adult manner. Even if the ceasefire didn’t last that was still more than had been achieved in a year. So did he need to go back to Tennessee when he could have his stuff and his dogs brought out to him?

His mother had called exactly at the right moment (or the wrong one depending on your point of view), right when he was about to make the decision. It reminded him that the other reason he’d gone home was he owed some people some time.  

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Reese said as the plane came to a stop.

“Really? We’d never have guessed. Oww!”

Justin had elbowed Trace sharply in the ribs. Clearly she was preoccupied with something but being sarcastic about it wasn’t helpful. “Ignore him.”

“Oh y’all know I always do.” She glared at Trace. “Anyway, I, umm… I’ve… I officially decided we’re okay.” The words came out in such a rush they blended into each other. She finally met Justin’s blue eyes.

“Say what now? Hey, will you quit that?” Trace got elbowed again almost before he’d finished the sentence, and it connected in the same already smarting spot. He didn’t see why that deserved more violence; he was entitled to be shocked.

“Shut up, ass!” Justin said. He did not want this speech interrupted for anything less than the plane bursting into flames. The door was being opened behind them and people were saying things over the intercom but he was not paying a blind bit of attention.

“It was a hell of a lot easier when we were being nice to each other yesterday and…” She trailed off. Making an announcement of it like was stilted and inelegant, but there wasn’t a good way to ease in. Directness was the only option. “I don’t know. I thought about some things and… okay. I’m not sayin’ we’re best buddies again but if you can act like a human being and stop with all that asshole stuff you were doing, then we’re okay.”

If there was one lesson he’d learned last night it was not to push her so damn hard. As much as he wanted to get some rationale for this – it was so unexpected – he was not going to blow it any more than he already had. This might be the closest to forgiveness he got from her.

“Deal.”

“Well halle-fuckin’-lujah. Hey!” Trace protested. “God damn it will you people stop with the violence?”

This time it was Reese; she’d slapped him upside his head. Both she and Justin were giving him the stink eye.

“It’s about damn time, I’m allowed to swear. Does this mean I can actually invite you both to the same shit now without one of you threatening not to show?”

“Shut up.” They replied in tandem.

Reese was about to make a pithy remark when something else caught her eye on the tarmac. Involuntarily she grabbed Trace’s arm, her fingers digging in a touch too tight.

“Hey, that friggin’ hurts too! What did I ever do to you people?”

She was not listening. Instead she’d rushed to the plane door, forgetting even her purse. The metal steps clanged loudly in protest as she jogged down them. Once she hit the ground she upped speed and sprinted at full pelt towards the figure waiting for her. When she reached him she practically attacked him.

“Oh my God!” She squealed as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, a bright grin spreading across her face for the first time in several days. “I can’t believe it!”

“Hey darlin’.” He squeezed tightly, lifting her off her feet momentarily. He even smelled just right, the woody base of his cologne the same as always. Lips met the side of her head and his hand rubbed her back. “So how’s my best girl?”

“I thought you were coming in tomorrow!” She exclaimed. “I was gonna come pick you up!”

“Managed to get an earlier flight.” Oliver shrugged. He gave her another kiss on the cheek before stepping back to take a look at her, picking up her hands in his. “I heard about your friend, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Was the trip okay?”

Reese took a look behind her, where Justin and Trace were emerging from the airplane. She then looked back at Oliver and shrugged her shoulders comically, pulling a face. “Let’s just say this was a well timed surprise.”

“Yeah, about that… do I owe him some pain?” He looked darkly over at the approaching figures.

“We called truce, so be nice.”

Reese slipped an arm around his waist and as Oliver looped his around her shoulders in return she nestled under it. Oliver was the second eldest of her brothers and given their similarity in age, they’d always done a lot together. Since Dean considered himself too old and too cool to hang out with them (though always ready to kick in a few heads for them) the two of them had been co-conspirators, simultaneously entertaining and driving each other crazy. He’d joined the Navy for a four year tour and was currently three years in; he’d had to use all his leave to make it for the wedding. She hadn’t seen him in an age – since before the end of her previous engagement, hence his question - so to have him waiting for her at the airport was probably the best surprise she could have asked for. For a second she’d thought he was Drake, with his regulation short hair they looked similar from a distance. By the time he’d let it grow out for the next couple of weeks it would be more blonde than Drake’s.

“Hey guys, look who finally got his ass home!”

“Ollie!” Trace stuck out his hand and shook Oliver’s. “Long time no see, how you been?”

“Good, good. How’s things?” Oliver stuck out his hand to Justin and shook it too, but the smile was a little forced. Being so far away he was out of the loop on a lot of things, but he gathered something weird had happened. Now his sister was suddenly marrying some guy she just met. He didn’t know what was going on but he had an inkling it was Timberlake’s fault.

“Well, you know. Bit of a tough trip but we drank our way through it together.”

Wordlessly Justin handed Reese the purse he’d picked up for her. He’d immediately read the vibe and decided it was best to let Trace do the talking and let Oliver get it out of his system. The other brothers had already had the time to see him and remember they were friendly, get over any lingering over-protectiveness. Oliver hadn’t.

“Oh, really, y’all hung over?” Oliver said, pinching Reese’s arm. “Because Dean’s fixin’ for one of our legendary nights out, show me how much y’all missed me.”

“Ohhhhh shit,” Trace said. “Just tell me where you’ll be so I can stay away.”

The four eldest occasionally got the idea for a sibling night out into their heads; Clark was merely biding his time until legal drinking age when he could join them. In a more anonymous city he might have got away with joining them but their town was too small for that. Invariably these sibling nights out ended in bar crawls and invariably they were messy.

They’d always looked like fun but the policy was strictly no outsiders, so friends and other halves were not invited. Justin didn’t know exactly what went on, he’d only witnessed the aftermath when Reese eventually called to have him drive her home. More than once he had needed to carry her in the door. Occasionally she’d been so drunk she’d accidentally called Trace or Nadine instead of him, which was how Trace knew to steer well clear. It had taken a month before he let Reese live down the things she’d said to him thinking he was her boyfriend.

“I’m not hung over, munchkin over there’s hung over,” Reese informed him. “For one with my favourite brothers I’ll suck it up.”

Justin raised his eyebrows. He wasn’t sure what time she got to bed the previous night, but it must have been after him and it had been half past two when he finally made it. That was after an early start, and there’d been another one today. Add in a long plane ride yet she still wanted to do another heavy night immediately after? He was not going to jeopardise her newly outstretched olive branch by suggesting it was a bad idea though.

“Well Mom’s itching to get us both back so I’d best get her home. Thanks for taking care of her, guys.”

This time Oliver did look at Justin and give him the nod.

“Any time. You just make sure she gets home in one piece tonight, alright? I know what y’all are like on those Bennington benders,” Justin joked.

“When have I ever not watched out for my little sister?”

**

“Jesus Christ, Ollie, how much more you planning to give her?”

“Oh relax, Sammy!” Oliver hooked his elbow around the back of his younger brother’s neck, leaning on his pool cue. “Girl had a rough few days, she needed it. Don’t she look happier?”

“Yeah, don’t I look happier?”

“You look like you gon’ be real happy ‘til you sober up,” Sam muttered, pushing his over-long hair back behind his ears. Oliver kept handing his own shots off to her, so she was drinking more than any of the boys.

“Saaaaam!” Reese waved an arm, beckoning him to her.

“Yeah?” He sighed, trudging around the table to her side.

“Quit worryin’ and come explain to your big sister how the hell to do that shot again.”

“Which one, with the stick or the shooter?”

“Ahhhhh you’re so funny,” she giggled, ruffling her hand through his hair and smacking her lips against his cheek. Sam quickly started smoothing it back down. She knew he hated it when she did that. He was nearly a foot taller than her but since he was younger she still treated him like the baby of the family -sometimes more than Clark, who she was careful not to infantilise.

“I hate being the responsible one,” he said before patiently showing her the angle and where to aim again.

“Middle child issues,” she whispered in his ear before pinching his arm.

Dean was leaning against the bar, waiting for the next round of drinks. His head was turned to the side to watch his younger siblings and a smile pricked at the corners of his mouth. Of course they went out together all the time in various combinations, but it was different when it was all four. With Reese in LA for so long and then Ollie away serving, it was increasingly rare to get them all in the same room and when they were they were usually under parental supervision. Without the wardens they could get louder, rowdier and ruder – which they did. They were a true little gang and they bullied each other with nothing but affection. He missed that when they weren’t around.

The only one who got off lightly was Clark, but that was purely because he was so much younger. Between the four of them they felt like they were picking on people their own size; going in too hard on offspring number five felt wrong. There was still plenty of teasing but they didn’t get quite so below the belt.

“You should just be grateful we got her out at all,” Oliver declared to Sam. “I thought the ball and chain was going to pitch a fit when she said we were going out.”

“Oh come on!” Reese objected, her volume a little too loud. “He was not!”

“Please, he looked pissed.”

“He did not. You’re just projecting because you irrationally decided you didn’t like him before you met him. Which, by the way, you can go screw yourself with that.” Reese gave him a mock military salute with her middle finger.

Drake had in fact been a little put out, but only in private. They hadn’t had any alone time at all and he’d wanted a chance to talk about how she was doing, which Oliver would be hard pressed to fault him for. In front of her family he’d been nothing but supportive. Even in private he’d merely sighed a little, certainly hadn’t put up any protest. He’d said he totally understood the need for family time and dinner could wait until tomorrow. That was the kind of guy he was – he wasn’t going to pretend everything was peachy if it wasn’t, but he wasn’t unreasonable or possessive. She appreciated that about him. She always felt like she knew where she stood, but that the reins were still hers.

If she needed any proof, it was that he had been completely charming and amiable when he’d heard Dean’s suggestion. Drake had personally dropped her at the bar, happily kissed her good night, then told her that she had a free pass to go wild. The final touch was telling her to wake him up at whatever time if she needed a ride back. That, to her mind, was love.

“Hey, hey!” Oliver put his hands up in mock surrender, laughing. “Give a guy a couple of minutes to adjust.”

“Whatever. You’re under orders to be nice and don’t think I won’t hurt you if you’re not. I don’t give a shit if you’re the wandering son returned or whatever, I will beat you.”

“I’d take her seriously,” Sam said with a smirk as he chalked his cue. “She punches harder than you.”

“Hey - I have military training, assholes.”

“But I taught her how to punch - well, re-taught her after you failed. Trust me, she can take you.”

Dean observed this whole exchange from the bar. They were working on alcohol volume, thinking they were speaking normally but in reality doing so several notches louder than usual. With his arms folded across his chest, he chuckled to himself.

He stopped chuckling when he caught sight of an unfamiliar face at one of the tables, intently watching his siblings – one in particular. Suspiciously Dean peered over, taking stock. He was probably in his mid-thirties, dark hair and a scraggy beard. He was in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans; he didn’t have a beer and looked uninterested in procuring one. He couldn’t have been in the bar too long. They hadn’t been in there long themselves (it was their second stop of the night) and since it was a Wednesday the place had been quiet except for a few regulars. He’d have noticed. When he followed the guy’s line of sight, it was hitting Reese.

He didn’t like it.

Contrary to Reese’s whining over the years, Dean did not object to or put the shakedown on any guy who dared look at her. His baby sister was pretty and of course she was occasionally going to attract male attention. When she was running around in shorts and a tank top as she was now that was not an unlikely prospect. Once she’d hooked up with the famous guy, eyes fell on her for other reasons as well. If he had concerned himself with everybody looking he’d have had an aneurysm long ago.

Even so, he had his instincts. They lived in a small and unremarkable town so any stranger was always a cause for a raised eyebrow, but this guy simply seemed off to him. Arranging his face into a more neutral visage, Dean slipped away from the bar and approached the table.

“Excuse me,” he said with a friendly smile. “You got a light?”

“Sorry, don’t smoke.”

“Just my luck,” he kept it light and good-natured. “So you must be new in town, don’t remember seeing you before.”

“Oh yeah, just here for work. Not staying long. You live here?”

“Born and raised,” he replied. “I’m Dean.” It felt dirty, but he offered his hand.

“Joe,” the guy said as he grasped it with a perfunctory shake. “Wow, growing up in a small place like this you must know everyone, then?”

Alarm bells were going off in Dean’s head, and he couldn’t put his finger on why. Something about that question was raising his hackles.

“Is that your sneaky way of asking if I know about her?” He nodded his head towards Reese. “Sorry bud but you’re out of luck, she’s taken.”

“Oh, is she?”

The bells pealed all the louder. What was it about his reaction that was bugging him? It didn’t seem disappointed, it seemed… interested. Almost a little excited. Why was the guy so fascinated by some strange girl in a bar if it wasn’t because he wanted to make a move?

Then it hit him. It had been so long since anybody had come looking he’d almost forgotten the signs.

“Yep. Though even if she wasn’t, I wouldn’t recommend it.” To anyone who knew, his congenial chuckle would have been frightening in how sincere it sounded. “Brothers, overprotective, you know how it is. Three of ‘em with her too.”

“Oh really?” Dean had kept his tone jocular, so ‘Joe’ (if that was his real name) thought he was kidding and responded in kind. “I only see two.”

“Look again.”

The guy gave a yelp as without warning Dean grabbed a handful of his shirt and was right in his face. There was a loud scrape as the table skidded sideways, and it attracted the attention of everyone in the bar. On seeing it Sam immediately threw his arm out as if to protect Reese, even though they were several feet away. Oliver was already marching across the room.

“Three incredibly overprotective brothers, count ‘em. And let me tell you the oldest is kind of a psycho, really doesn’t like press scum stalking his little sister around town. You best get your ass out of here before I decide to do it for you.”

A cooler head than Dean’s would have confirmed his suspicions before starting anything, but ‘Joe’ gave himself away. It was plain from his expression that he’d got it right. “I’m not doing anything; I’m sitting here about to get a drink! I have as much right to be here as you!”

“Larry!” Dean yelled out for the bar’s owner, who had been getting their drinks. He’d been distracted from that task by the unfolding drama.

“Come on now son, y’all know I don’t hold with that in my bar. Take it outside.”

“Larry, you want to explain to this paparazzi scum right here what the local policy is on press comin’ into our town following our citizens around?”

Oliver reached Dean and had been about to pull him off of the guy, but with that piece of news his visage turned to a threatening scowl. The only thing stopping him from joining his elder brother was the wish to avoid any cops being called (his commanding officer didn’t take kindly to that sort of thing). Reese was quietly listening to all of this from her spot behind Sam. His guarding of her was totally unnecessary, she could take care of herself, but his lanky frame served as a handy way to block her from view. If the gossip hound had a camera he wasn’t going to get any pictures of her with it.

“Ahh. Well you see, sir,” Larry drawled, “we reserve the right not to serve press. I’m gon’ have to politely ask you to leave my premises.”

The town was well used to all manner of people visiting purely because Justin Timberlake hailed from it. Fans and paparazzi frequently swooped down on the place. The population was extremely protective of their golden boy. Nobody gave quotes to the press, and if they got the idea that somebody was hunting around for a story they turned them away. If Justin was offering his patronage to any of the local establishments they did not allow anybody who appeared to be press in.

Occasionally they had to extend this to friends and family too, when reporters and photographers thought following one of them around would yield a quote or story. As his girlfriend and now his ex Reese had long been a target for that. That was what had tipped Dean off. It was the way they all started prying – by trying to casually steer the conversation around as if it was merely small talk. It had been a while since she’d been of interest so it had taken a minute to place it.

Dean released the guy’s shirt, patting the collar back down as if being helpful. “Have a nice trip home. Oh, and I hope your agency offers good medical because if I catch you near my sister again your camera’s getting shoved somewhere you won’t enjoy.”

“Dean,” Oliver said, leading him away.

Larry saw the guy out – they could hear a lot of swearing from outside – and the brothers crossed back over to the pool table. Reese grabbed at Dean to hug him tightly around the middle. Knowing it was a ‘thank you,’ he kissed the top of her head and gruffly pushed her away as if to dismiss it. Nobody was messing with his family on his watch.

“What was that about?” Sam asked.

“They were following us around in LA too. At the funeral, the airport…” Reese said. A disgusted expression passed over her brothers’ faces at the mention of the funeral. “If they’re following me around here too that means they’re working on somethin’. This can’t be a coincidence.”

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Ollie predicted grimly.

They stood motionless for a moment before Reese pulled a face.

“Well that totally killed the buzz.”

“Hey, none of that quitter talk girly girl. We are Benningtons and this is our night - we do not accept defeat.”

Oliver clapped one hand over his heart and pumped his other fist in the air in a circle, pretending to be moved by Dean’s attempt at a stirring speech. Sam was rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“The buzz is in our blood – and I’ll be damned if we let that asshole kill it. Another round of shots and we’ll make the next game interesting?” Dean suggested.

By ‘interesting’ he meant that they were going to start gambling various dares, chores, and possibly even some money. The other boys nodded their heads in assent, but Reese was already yanking out her phone to write some text messages. One version went out to Nadine and Drake as a complaint, the other went out to Justin and Trace as a warning.

Lord only knew what the next few days would bring.